


Boys in the Wood</p>

by bornof_sorrow (wintersfire)



Category: Captive Prince - Freece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-13
Updated: 2010-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-26 00:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersfire/pseuds/bornof_sorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter twenty, part b (book two): The morning after the night before or what goes around comes around. You probably need to have read the whole book so far to get what's going on, but certainly that chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boys in the Wood</p>

_  
**shortfic for lusiology - Boys in the Wood**   
_   


**Title:** Boys in the Wood

 **Pairings:** Jord/Aimeric, Laurent, Damen, slight hints of L/D, Damen/Kashel

 **Rating:** R for lots of swearing and some sex

 **Warnings:** mentions of het. Probably OoC for Laurent. I don't care – he deserves it. Think of it as a wee bit cracky if it helps. Voyeur! Laurent.

 **Summary:** Chapter twenty, part b (book two): The morning after the night before or what goes around comes around. You probably need to have read the whole book so far to get what's going on, but certainly that chapter.  


 **Disclaimer:** it all belongs to freece.

 **A/N:**

written as a shortfic for lusiology at her request:

 _I would love Laurent covertly watching some J/A action in the woods (doesn't have to be much) and then turning round to find somewhere more private for himself only to walk straight into Damen._

 

 

Laurent shook himself. His shoulder was cramping where it had rested too long against the rough trunk of the elder tree. He could feel the cold seeping through his laced layers and knew it was time to get back. He had numerous options now the border attack had come and he'd wanted to re-assess them in privacy. He snorted to himself at this lie.

 

He didn't want to be around people particularly. Scenes from the night before were running through his mind and he couldn't divert them to anything useful. The image of Damen's smile as he'd leant his head towards Kashel – the lustful gleam to his eyes, the straightforward honest appreciation of the body before him and the pleasure that was possible – that was what was making Laurent hard in his breeches and the lacings strain at his crotch. He didn't like it and refused to consider why.

 

Laurent moved lightly, silently through the trees, the dark green shade of the foliage entwining with the early evening gloom to make seeing the path difficult. Luckily Laurent knew these woods well and although he eyed his feet his mind was still watching Damen's muscles flex as they tightened around the Vaskian girl in the glow from the coupling fire.

 

“Yes, _yes_ , oh fuck.”

 

Laurent froze and melted into the deeper shadow of the gloom. Who was that? He swept his glance around and there, a glimpse of white through the trees. He stepped forward, still silent, for a better view and managed to stifle a groan before it erupted in surprised arousal from his tight throat.

 

Aimeric was pressed up against a thick ash trunk, one hand and upraised arm cushioning his head against the bole. Jord was thrusting into him, hard and steady, shirtless, with his breeches unlaced and dipping low around his arse, the muscles working as he fucked Aimeric without finesse. Aimeric was obviously not complaining if the begging and invocations to “Harder, yes, like that, oh...” and the arm pulling Jord closer were anything to go by. His pale smooth back writhed against Jord's deep chest and heavy shoulders as he was simultaneously thrust forward by Jord and pressed himself back to receive him as deep as he could.

 

Laurent's cock went from half-hard to a stiff aching throb as he watched Aimeric expose his throat to Jord's mouth, tipping his head back onto his shoulder. Jord was whispering a steady litany of indepherable but no-doubt graphic words into Aimeric's ear. At the same time as his cock stretched and pressed against his pants, Laurent felt his heart clench painfully. There was nothing for show about the coupling despite the exhibitionist aspect of their fucking, this was no contrivance for the ring, no pet show to gain a rich sponsor, not an artistic yet blatant show of wares. This was totally unlike the sophisticated entertainments to stimulate the overindulged and jaded. This was full of such feeling and want and urgency and heat that Laurent knew he had to do something. He couldn't go back to his rooms and pretend his usual cool distance, not without some release. He was, after all, a man, even if he wanted people to see the disinterest of a demi god when they looked at him.

 

He knew about Jord and Aimeric, of course. Aimeric had only been discreet enough to avoid spooking Jord. The whole camp knew and he didn't blame either of them (liar, liar) but even through his closed eyelids he could see the pleasure written across Aimeric's face and for a moment he allowed the spiteful thought that a minor noble could fuck a soldier all over the fucking place when a Crown Prince couldn't even consider it.

 

As Aimeric screamed Jord's name and Jord laughed with pleasure and satisfaction, Laurent slid back into the trees. There was a sheltered lee by a rocky overhang not ten feet away. No one would see him there. He resisted the urge to palm his cock, knowing a more pleasurable release was moments away. He couldn't afford for anyone to see, of course, but he'd become adept at extremely discreet self-gratification when it became necessary.

 

He grimaced as that thought brought him to Damen. It more than enough for any man to bear. All day he'd squashed down the low throbbing hunger of trying not to watch the slave slink about the camp, his satisfied grin fed by every knowing smirk from the men. That morning, as they'd pressed against each other in the hidden passageway, the smell of him, fucked out and sweaty, had filled the stale air and for a brief moment he'd almost regretted the success of his plan to satisfy both Damen and Halvik's women in one clever move. Perhaps not so clever, he'd reflected as he watched Damen fall into the sleep of utter abandon he'd enjoyed whilst Laurent watched him and marvelled at the sheer number of women he'd fucked the night before. Never mind that it brought together a number of his own seconday plans, he was jealous. Jealous of his utter ease in his sexuality, jealous of the pleasure he found so easily, jealous of his lack of self-consciousness and shame but most of all he was jealous that he'd not felt those hard thighs working against his own, those strong hands pulling him into position. All that, without The Lust In The Woods ( yes, it was already capitalised and titled because he'd have trouble forgetting about it) would have had him frustrated and leaking enough to consider self-gratification without the images of soldier Jord fucking his boy so hard.

 

The words “soldier” and “boy” did make his breath stick in his chest and if he'd have had blood and energy enough to spare he would have laughed at the images just those two words drew in his mind. Where was his sophisticated coolness now? Was he reduced to getting stiff at the thought of some soldier (Damen) using his brawn (oh, fuck) to overpower (Shit! Fucking laces!) someone less physically powerful (Oh, you bloody fucker of a pair of pants) than himself? (“ _I don't need instruction”_ , no, I'll bet you don't you slutty bitch). Laurent gave up the fight with his lacings and dragged in a breath, inhaling hard through his nose and out through his mouth, hoping that the air to his lungs would somehow make his fingers work, because he was as hard as the rocks around him and if he didn't get...

 

“Laurent! What's wrong..? Are you..? Have you been..?” Laurent's eyes snapped open and there, not five feet away was Damen, just visible. He glanced over Laurent and flicked his eyes both ways along the barely noticeable path, clearly trying to assess any danger or threat.

 

It took every ounce of hard earned self-control for Laurent not to do something (like beg) nonsensical (or scream) and impulsive (still knackered Damen? or are you ready for more now you've had a few hours rest?) but he couldn't bring himself to speak. He closed his eyes again and considered the available excuses before deciding _Do Not Apologise, Do Not Explain_ was his best offense. He shrugged off from the rock wall and gestured vaguely back down the path.

 

“Has Arnoul prepared the castle for our departure?”

 

Damen stood silently and looked at him. Laurent looked back. He knew his skin was as pale as it ever was and as he hadn't actually managed to unlace anything, his doublet jacket would hide his slightly untucked shirt.

 

“It's late. I thought I'd see if you had orders.” Damen hesitated apparently uncertain as to Laurent's mood. “Are you..? You look..?”

 

“I look what? Has all that sex confused your barbarian brain?” Laurent raised one eyebrow , whilst he focused on not shifting or fidgeting in any way, shape or form. He also hoped that his glare kept Damen's eyes riveted on his face whilst his dick gave up its battle with his pants. Just as Damen's eyes shifted in mute acknowledgement of his submission, they both heard a noise and Damen was almost immediately pressed alongside him, hidden by the hang of the rocks.

 

Jord and Aimeric came down the path, heading towards the castle. It was obvious what they had been doing in the wood. Aimeric's shirt was still askew and hanging off one shoulder and he had fresh, red lovebites along the collarbone. Jord jerked on the wrist he was holding and pressed a finger into one of them and whispered something in a low voice to Aimeric. Aimeric pressed his hips to Jord's and nodded his “yes” to him and then Jord tugged him along the path. They were oblivious to the two other men.

 

The silence was as deep and profound as the gloom but even within it Laurent could feel the weight of Damen's look. He could feel the press of it against his averted face and then slowly skimming along his person, then back to the spot where Aimeric and Jord had emerged and disappeared. Laurent did not wait for anything further. He strode out along the path, for the world appearing unhurried and unconcerned.

 

“Come along.”

 

He could tell by the utter silence behind him and the careful footfalls that Damen was not fooled, not by any of it. Laurent would not look back or acknowledge his presence in any way but he knew, as sure as the fact that the soldier was behind him, that if he looked, Damen's grin would be ear to ear, and his smirk would be visible from the stars.

 

The end.

 


End file.
